


Primal Urges

by thisislegit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Kink Discovery, Long Hair, M/M, Roronoa Zoro-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisislegit/pseuds/thisislegit
Summary: Sanji comes back to the crew after two years with long hair, and Zoro really wants to pull it for some reason.Inspired by that tumblr post explaining primal urges as being things like "climb up the stairs on all fours" or "stick your hand in the flour, just do it"





	Primal Urges

**Author's Note:**

> warm up for zosan month since i thought of it this morning and couldn't get it out of my head? didn't expect it to be this long though

It was…wavy? Sanji’s hair was wavy and got wavier the closer to the ends it got. Zoro expected a few people on the crew to be coming back with longer hair, but Sanji wasn’t one of them. Now the cook was noodling around the ladies wearing a high ponytail which length stopped just at the bottom of his neck. Didn’t having long hair get in the way of cooking? Why did he grow it out in the first place? Sanji’s hair had always been a dumb bowl cut he let grow wild, so it’s not like his hair wouldn’t be easy to manage where ever the idiot was these past two years.

Zoro walked around the deck of Sunny relearning his surroundings when the cook walked by him. With all the arguing they did when they ran into each other, Zoro didn’t bother holding back a snort. Like a moth to a flame, Sanji’s attention zeroed in on him.

“Does our local plant life got something to say?”

Zoro shrugged. “Nothing really. Just thought you were a pretty boy before, now though…”

He didn’t mean it as an insult. Sanji had been dangerously pretty since they met, but Zoro learned when he was a kid whether a compliment would be taken well by someone. As an adult, he knew anything could sound like an insult with the right emphasis.

“Not everyone has hair that grows a centimeter a year. My choice of barbers were limited,” Sanji said as he pulled out a box of cigarettes. “I’m not so barbaric as to slice my hair off like you do.”

“So, no one had the right bowl size? Makes sense.”

The metal of his sword and the toe of Sanji’s shoe were a centimeter away from hitting when Nami called out Sanji’s name. Sanji was back in love cook mode instantly, turning away from Zoro to focus his heart eyes on their navigator leaning over the banister of the floor above them.

Zoro put his sword away cutting out the rest of the conversation while he made his way to the crow’s nest. Now was as good a time as any to check the condition of his weights.

* * *

 

Two years of training allowed for Zoro to crush most, if not all, of his primal urges under his foot. Thinking one was victorious when they gained the upper hand was dangerous, and Zoro couldn’t allow himself to take it easy on anyone in the new world. However, in their recent spats, Zoro’s mind entertained the thought of giving Sanji’s ponytail a satisfying yank. Which wasn’t a weird passing thought. Having a ponytail swinging around as Sanji did his spins and jumps screamed out major weak point. What made the thought weird was how Zoro rationalized it since he didn’t have the urge to tug anyone else’s hair.

He knew if he tried that shit with Nami, it would result in his financial debt becoming higher than Luffy’s bounty, and the loss of his testicles. Robin would see him before he did it, let him get a yank in, and then he’d have a series of accidents that would progressively get worse if he didn’t watch his back. Zoro saw Usopp’s hair ritual before he went to bed. The number of products their sniper put in his hair to keep those thick curls tamable was astounding. Zoro would feel bad giving him more work to satisfy some dumb curiosity.

Then came the questions. Would Sanji’s hair be soft or more like straw? They had to jump in salt water often in order to save their nakama from the depths below, plus Sanji loved swimming so for his hair to be soft made less sense. On the other hand, the ponytail swung just as freely as Nami and Robin’s hair, and easy movement meant the hair needed to be soft. Flexible. The way his hair whipped around his shoulders when Sanji turned too fast, or how it would bounce when he laughed too hard. Zoro allowed himself a few moments to dwell on these thoughts, but they were starting to pile up which was inconvenient.

He wasn’t able to figure out how to get rid of this urge until he’d wandered into the kitchen for something to drink. Sanji stood at the counter, slicing away at fruit, his eyes never leaving what his hands were doing when Zoro was walking behind him.

“Don’t touch the shochu, shitty swordsman,” Sanji said.

“In here to get water.”

Sanji didn’t say anything to that, so Zoro went about getting a cup with the chipped rim and walking by Sanji again to get to the sink. He’d turned on the faucet when Sanji’s cutting faltered, and the cook bunched his shoulders. What was wrong? Zoro’s gaze went from his cup to watching Sanji as he rolled his shoulders around like ants were making a slow descent down his back. Sanji jerked his head to the side causing his ponytail to fly over his left shoulder. Yellow strands of hair laid over the pale skin of Sanji’s long neck, and the ongoing mantra of “Tug it, tug it, tug it” played in Zoro’s mind. Just a quick yank. He could press his fingers into it before forming a fist around the hair and pulling down enough to-.

Sanji froze, with his shoulders bunched up and his chin touching his collar. That was odd. He relaxed his shoulders, setting his knife down and moved over to the sink next to Zoro’s. Did Sanji notice? Zoro avoided making eye contact and started to drink from his glass in order to stay a little longer. Sanji gave his hands a quick rinse and patted them dry on his apron. He pulled out a few hairpins from one of his pockets to reach up behind his head and twist his ponytail into a bun. Zoro watched each hairpin vanish. One, two, three. Sanji pulled out a few more hairpins and gone they went. Zoro drank a little slower when he noticed he was halfway done with his glass. Four, five, six, and seven. Dropping his hands back into the sink to wash them, Sanji said something about an itch on his back while a few strands of hair fell loose making the bun look messy. Zoro finished his glass off, refilled it, and left the kitchen without another word.

* * *

 

Could Sanji tell Zoro wanted to tug his hair? Was that Sanji’s haki working against him? Zoro did his bicep curls under the shade of Nami’s orange trees. He wanted to do his warm-ups outside, and since it took a lot of strain to get his body to work up a sweat, Nami didn’t mind his presence there. Nami and Robin were a floor below within sight sitting at their small garden table. The umbrella which hung over them both was left inside as the sun wasn’t beating heavy on the crew in this part of the sea.

“Ladies, I have your sundaes made with love!” Sanji spun over to the girl’s table with a tray of fancy looking dishes in his hand. His hair sat in the same messy bun on the back of his head.

“Thank you, Sanji,” Nami said as she was handed her sundae.

Robin nodded her head in thanks when she was handed hers.

Sanji turned on his heel about to give out desserts to the rest of the crew when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Sanji, before you leave, Nami and I were curious about something.” Robin set her sundae on the table next to her book and sat with her chin resting on her folded hands.

“Yes, my beautiful Robin-chwan?”

“Could we see you with your hair down?”

Sanji faltered for a moment until his cheeks tinted pink and a bashful grin shined on his stupid face. “Of course.”

He set the tray of sundaes down, reaching up behind himself to pull out the pins in his hair. One, two, three, four. He shoved the small bunch into the pocket of his apron, and reached up to pull out the rest. Five, six, seven. Zoro watched with anticipation as Sanji put the last of the hairpins into the same apron pocket. Next was the hair tie. Instead of untying it like Zoro thought he would do, Sanji gave it a few light tugs until the band of fabric was rolled over his knuckles to sit on his wrist. He fluffed his hair a bit, and Zoro tightened his grip on his dumbbell to keep from dropping it. Sanji's hair stopped a few centimeters below his shoulders with some of the pieces falling gently into the collar of his shirt. So loose. So much to grab. Zoro shifted his legs and thought about which of Usopp's plants could poison him killing what would've been a growing problem.

“How’s this?” Sanji placed his hands onto his hips.

“Wow, it looks so soft,” Nami said. “What made you want to grow it out?”

A flash of panic took over Sanji’s features before he wiped it away. “I, uh, didn’t grow it out on purpose. I was so busy training, and it just kept getting longer that I figured I wouldn’t bother with it. Then it got to a length that I liked, so I kept it is all.”

“Makes sense, right Zoro?” Robin blinked up at him.

Her smile was too knowing, but Zoro would be damned if he revealed anything by speaking. So, he grunted pretending he hadn’t been listening. That he hadn’t been watching Sanji so close.

Sanji picked the tray from the table. “Oi asshole, get down here and get your sundae.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Zoro leaped down to the floor below and eyed his options. From the rainbow assortment Zoro saw, Sanji had color coded the sundaes meaning the bowl with chocolate ice cream and green garnishes was for him. Did Sanji look better with his hair up or down? Zoro didn't mind either, but his hair being down meant more for Zoro to run his fingers through. Sanji was giving him a bored look as Zoro grabbed his sundae. This was a good time to test his theory. Zoro thought about how much he wanted to grab a handful of Sanji’s blonde hair, and just pull it down. Wrap as much as he could into his fist and-. Sanji’s look turned from bored to glaring. His stance grew taut like he was prepping for a fight. Muttering thanks, Zoro went to the main deck with a dumbbell in one hand and a sundae in the other.

Sanji couldn’t read his mind, but he could sense Zoro’s intent with haki. Grinning, Zoro went to a sunnier spot to sit so he could better enjoy the coolness of his ice cream. Time to turn this weird urge into a challenge. Would he be able to catch the cook off guard and give that ponytail a tug, or would Sanji’s haki be too fast for him? 

* * *

 

Zoro didn’t form a battle plan. His intent would be easier to read if he followed steps. Instead, he took notes. Sanji wore his hair in either a high ponytail or a messy bun. He wore his hair down when taking baths and when going to bed. He didn’t fight with his hair down, except for the few times some enemy had gotten close enough to cut the scrunchie out of his hair. Zoro learned the hair tie was called a scrunchie when he overheard Sanji asking Robin for one to borrow. Sanji was the most distracted when he was cooking, setting the table for a meal, or doing laundry. He was least distracted when walking around Sunny, talking to the girls, or helping one of their nakama with a task that took more than one set of hands.

If Zoro was going to succeed, his best chance was to catch Sanji in the kitchen during meal prep. He had one shot at this. Failing meant Sanji would no longer relax around Zoro, or worse, Sanji would chop his hair off. Zoro went on with his regular routine as not to raise suspicion. Which appeared to work. Sanji’s hackles didn’t raise whenever Zoro so much as breathed, and their fights were consistent but minimal. Luffy’s whining for lunch an hour after noon is when Zoro realized it was his chance. Sanji was in the kitchen, likely fully immersed in what meal he was preparing, and Zoro finished his last set of reps for the day. He could go for a glass of water.

He cleared his mind before entering the galley. Sanji stood at the counter sifting ingredients into a bowl, his high ponytail swinging a bit with the movement. Zoro walked by him thinking about sake as he grabbed a cup from the cupboard.

“There’s a pecan bourbon in there I’m using for a cake. Do not touch it.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “You put bourbon in cakes?”

“If I can make a rum cake for your birthday, I think I can use bourbon, and it’s not for the cake itself. It’s for the icing.”

“Special occasion?” Zoro grabbed the new bottle of shochu they got from the last port and placed his cup over the bottle’s neck.

“No, an experiment.”

Walking back behind Sanji, Zoro said, “Let me know how it goes, curly.”

Sanji didn’t react fast enough to keep Zoro from grabbing his ponytail. Zoro did a mental fist pump of victory before giving Sanji’s hair a firm tug. A loud moan came from Sanji’s throat making them both freeze. Sanji had dropped the sifter into the bowl and covered his mouth with both his hands. Zoro stood with Sanji’s hair still in his fist and a shocked look on his face. The longer the pause lasted between them the more Sanji’s face grew redder while Zoro tried to connect what happened.

He expected a pained ow, or Sanji cursing at him and kicking him out of the kitchen, or a kick to the face meaning Zoro would have to take the hit to save his alcohol or let it crash to the floor. He didn’t expect the sexy “aahn” that left Sanji’s mouth after pulling his hair.

Keeping the soft ponytail in his fist, Zoro embraced having the upper hand. He let a smile slide onto his face as he leaned in close to Sanji’s ear and said, “So that’s what it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> did they fuck after this? probably after lunch was served and eaten
> 
> im working on a request rn, but if you want to request a fic, or do a trade(fic for fic or fic for art since i cant draw) for zosan month please hit me up on my tumblr and i'll post it here, dont worry, i dont have auotplay
> 
> possessionisamyth.tumblr.com/ask


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